Snow Day
by meganichan04
Summary: Harry and his godfather enjoy their first snowy day together, to the displeasure of one Remus Lupin. Warm and fluffy content ahead.


**Author's Note:** I know it's been for-evah since I posted anything, but stuff happened. Like college. College happened, and is still happening. And I've been working on other, original, stories. This is just a quick winter-themed piece written for a friend as part of her holiday gift. Though I've never written anything for the fandom, I am quite fond of it, and of the warm, happy aspects of it in particular.

**Characters:** Belong to J. K. Rowling, not to me. I make no profit from writing this story.

**o-o-o-o-o**

"Come along, Harry, don't dawdle. Come romp with me!"

Before Harry could venture to reply that anyone over the age of twelve rarely romped Sirius was gone, tumbling headlong down the small snowdrift they had been standing at the top of. Harry couldn't help but smile as he watched his godfather's messy descent to the sidewalk below. It had most likely been many years since Sirius could play in the snow without being covered in the disguise of fur, so he probably did fancy a good romp. That, or the huge mug of hot chocolate Professor Lupin—_Remus_, Harry reminded himself again—had forced upon him before they left the house had gone to his head.

With a shrug, Harry tightened his red and gold scarf and slid down the hill in pursuit. Already at the bottom, Sirius was thrashing about as if in the grip of a particularly excruciating curse. Moments later, though, he stopped and sat bolt upright, gobs of snow matted in his long, black hair.

"Have a look, Harry."

Harry did. Rather than an angel, Sirius had managed to flatten out the shape of a dog on the snowy ground. He grinned as Harry laughed.

"I taught myself to do that when I was about your age."

"It looks a bit painful."

"You should have seen your dad trying to work out how to make one like a stag. Looked like he was having epileptic convulsions." Sirius sat up and looked around them with a satisfied sigh. "You know, this old monstrosity of a place doesn't look too bad in the winter."

It was true. The façade of Grimmauld Place looked much less dark and gloomy under a thick blanket of pure, white snow. Drifts covered the dilapidated garden and many of the smaller signs of general disrepair. And, as an added bonus, the many magical protections on the house lent just enough security from prying eyes for Sirius to engage in an outdoor frolic without the cover provided by his Animagus form. Their immediate neighbors would just think him some nutty man playing with his godson—which, of course, he was.

"Oh, I've got an idea!"

Startled from his musings, Harry watched curiously as his mentor quickly formed a sizable ball of snow between his hands. "What are you up to now?"

"Let's play a game, Harry. It's called 'Get Back Inside and Pelt Whoever You See First with a Snowball.' Race you!"

"But the only other person inside is—Sirius, wait!" Laughing despite himself, Harry grabbed his own, much smaller, ball of snow and chased after. This was sure to get them both in trouble… but wasn't that what they were best at, really?

In minutes they were inside and creeping stealthily down the halls toward the kitchen. Apparently, though, they were not stealthy enough. An infuriated shriek erupted behind them, making both jump and Harry almost drop his snowball.

"The floors! Look at the nice, clean floors!" Kreature screamed loudly, pointing at the trail of wet footprints on a worn rug. "Snow melting everywhere, all on the wonderful carpets! Look what you've done, horrible, horrible—!"

"S'cuse me one moment, Harry."

Harry had to physically cover his mouth to stem the laughter as his godfather whirled on his heel and sprinted headlong toward the irate house elf with snowy ammunition upraised. In a matter of seconds, Kreature was infinitely more irate.

"Are you tormenting that elf again?" Remus barely looked up from his morning paper as Harry and Sirius snuck into the kitchen a minute later. "Not that he doesn't deserve it, in all likelihood, but you should be more mature than that by now, Sirius." Slouched at the table in a threadbare bathrobe and bunny slippers that had seen better days, sipping a mug of something warm and steaming, he looked remarkably comfortable.

Without a word, Sirius liberated Harry's snowball and began to stalk forward.

Remus frowned, peering over the top of his paper. "You know I get nervous when you don't answer me. What are you doing, there?"

Still Sirius slunk closer, the beginnings of a manic grin oozing onto his face as he raised his dripping projectile. Remus paled.

"Is that a snowball? Padfoot, I swear to all that is holy, if you come one step closer to me with that I will—no! Stay back! I'm serious, you hear?!"

With a wet splat the snowball found its mark, Remus barely managing to cover his head and shoulders with the unfolded paper in time. He yelled loudly as a clump of snow slid down the neck of his robe. Sirius laughed madly. In the doorway, Harry tried to stifle his own hilarity. This was just too priceless. Especially when his calm, patient former-professor retaliated.

"I'm going to rub your nose in the sodding slush, you horrible mutt! How could you do that to me?! I just got warm, and you do that!"

"Harry, help! He's gone mad! Hey, don't smack me with that, it stings!"

Laughter, shouting, chairs scraping a scuffed floor. Thwacks as the damp morning paper, conveniently rolled up into a tight tube, was used to mercilessly beat the offender. A yelp as Sirius tried to retreat, slipped in the puddle of melted snow, and had to grab onto Remus for support as they both went down into the wet spot.

"You're just an overgrown child, that's what you are!"

"Moony, please, mercy!"

Harry felt warmer inside than he could ever remember. Watching his new family—a proper family, small and dysfunctional as it was—tussle on the floor lit something bright and shining inside. It was almost like what being with Ron and Hermione did to him, but somehow even more so. They had all been through dark times, would doubtless go through even darker, but here, now… it was a snowy, frigid, glorious day. And Harry Potter was grateful for it.

**o-o-o-o-o**

The end.


End file.
